


Baby, it's cold outside

by Small_bump



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: Christmas fic, It's a Christmas lifetime movie - seriously that's what I'm going for, Love at First Sight, M/M, Minor Character Death, New York City setting, alternative universe, fluff and lots of fluff, mention of a minor character with addication
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-05
Updated: 2017-12-05
Packaged: 2019-02-11 00:23:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12923325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Small_bump/pseuds/Small_bump
Summary: Anything can happen on Christmas Eve, even amircale. Robert's kind of banking on it.





	Baby, it's cold outside

**Author's Note:**

> Merry early Christmas!
> 
> Special thanks to Pauline for the beta.

 

The first thing Robert thinks is, this has to be a  _joke._ He hadn't spent two hours, stuck in jam-packed traffic, gone through hell in the form of airport security to find out, after all  _this._ His flight's been cancelled.

It's an absolute joke, one that worsens when the frazzled flight attended quietly explains that their  _backed_ up, and wouldn't be able to get him on a plane until tomorrow flipping morning. 

"I don't think you understand, with the time difference by the time I get there, it'll be  _boxing day_." He's fuming, fists coiled, boarding pass a crumbled mess. "There has to be something you can do? I'll pay if that's the issue."

The flight attendant shakes her head. "This has nothing to do with money, sir, we simply don't have space. We're fully booked, until tomorrow morning." 

He leaves the desk, with a hotel voucher and a map. He'd have kicked up a fuss if he thought it would get him anywhere. He blames Vic, she's the only reason he'd bothered to actually give a toss about Chrismas, and book a flight home. 

He was more than happy to drink his weight in wine while watching cliche Christmas movies;  _alone._ If he'd still been with Chrissie, he'd probably have dragged himself off the settee, put on a suit and resemble a normal person.

But they  _weren't._ At least if they had been, Robert would have had a half decent excuse as to why, once again, he wouldn't be home for Christmas.  But he'd fucked that up  _too,_ he doesn't think anyone who knew him would be surprised. It's what he did.

He doesn't see the bloke. Slams right into him, as he turns the corner, foreheads banging into each other. 

"Shit." It's the first thing the bloke says, fingers tentatively touching his forehead.  

"Watch it," Robert snaps, straightening himself up. Forehead thumping. 

The bloke's eyes widen, and Robert instantly feels  _bad._ It wasn't his fault Robert is stuck at the airport on Christmas Eve. 

"Sorry," the bloke mumbles. 

Robert sighs, voice tight. "Don't worry about it."

 

::

 

("Robert it's Christmas," Vic pleads. He feels like a monster, listening to his sister beg, over the phone. 

He's not been home in  _years,_ and certainly not since his dad died. He couldn't bring himself to, he didn't  _want_ to. 

"I know Vic, but I'm swamped at work, I don't even think I'm going to get the time off."

"Oh I see, so for Chrissie you'd find a way to get time off, but for your own sister it's impossible," she says disgruntled. 

"Vic," he tries, but she's hung up before he even had a chance to string together a half-arsed excuse. 

 

He books a flight the  _next_  day.) 

 

::

 

He finds a coffee shop with a comfortable settee free by some miracle and navigates his way through the maze of suitcases. The first thing he does is take out his laptop and connect to the wifi, maybe if he checks his work emails, he won't drive himself mad thinking about the time he's  _wasting._

He orders himself three coffees, answers four emails, and scrolls through Facebook for half an hour.

He only gets up when he can't take it anymore, bored out of his mind from sitting there watching videos of all his mates _enjoying_ their Christmas Eve. The buggers. 

He grabs his carry-on, swings it over his shoulder and ventures into the shopping section of the terminal. He stops at an electronics shop, browsing through the cameras, dodging over-friendly sales assistants. 

They're just so  _friendly_ over here; he prefers back home where you could be ignored for days before getting service. 

"Mum, I'm fine." It's the bloke from earlier, the one Robert had nearly mowed, walking into the shop. He's wearing a blue jumper and grey trackies, duffle bag at his feet.  He looks anything but happy, Robert doesn't blame him.

"Look I'm sorry," he exasperates. "I messed up, and now I'm stuck in this god awful place until tomorrow morning-yeah they've given me some poxy hotel voucher, like that, makes up for me being stranded here on flaming Christmas Eve."

When the bloke turns around in Robert's direction, he pretends to be fiddling with a phone charger as if he's contemplating buying it.   

"Can I help you with anything, sir?" A sales assistant asks. The label on his breast pocket says  _hi, I'm Jard, how can I help you today?_ Robert inwardly scoffs, the only thing he wants -or more like needs- help with is a way out of here.

"No I'm alright," he says instead. He places the phone charger back on the rack and walks out of the shop.

 

::

 

He decides, after walking around aimlessly for a while, that the best thing to do is figure out how to get to the hotel. So he pulls out the map the flight attendant had given him earlier and works out that he is at the wrong terminal.

After a quick google search, he sets off, making his way to the lower levels of the airport. In search of the shuttle, or AirTrain, as they refer to it here, that goes to and away from terminals.  

It's jam-packed when he arrives at the platform, everywhere Robert turns there is a back to his face blocking his path. With a bit of shoving, he manages to make his way onto the shuttle, searching carriage after carriage for a seat; he almost gives up and resigns himself to standing.

It isn't that far  _away._ When from his peripheral vision he notices a woman stand up, lug her suitcase to the entrance, moaning about something or another. 

He makes a beeline for it, only just snagging the seat from some bloke, sporting a man bun. He deserves to stand for that hairstyle,  _alone._

"Are you following me or something?" the bloke beside him asks. 

Robert frowns, realising the question was directed at him, he turns to face the stranger and  _Oh, i_ t's the bloke with the blue jumper, the one that's been popping up everywhere Robert turns. 

He shakes his head, laughing under his breath. "It's just a coincidence," he assures the stranger.

The bloke hums, chewing on his bottom lip. It's well-adorable, there's no other way to put it. See this bloke's got blue orbs that are soft around the edges and do things to Robert he probably shouldn't admit, sitting in a cramped shuttle carriage with a woman's elbow to his face. 

"Don't believe me?" He flashes the stranger his hotel voucher, "mate we've both been screwed over by American weather that's all."

The bloke sighs. "Sorry, it's just been a rough couple of days and now on top of everything I'm going to miss Christmas."

He understands, he  _does._ The situation sucks on a monumental level. 

"If it makes you feel any better. At least you didn't book a flight in the vain attempt at fixing something you know is broken beyond repair."

"Hoping for a Christmas miracle uh?" he asks. Robert has never thought of it that way, maybe  _yeah._ Maybe he is.

"I know, I was," the bloke continues. "I flew all the way here, hoping that by some miracle, me making a grand gesture would fix all the shitty parts of our relationship."

Robert swallows, looking down at his hands. "That sucks, mate."

"Yeah, it does."

Silence falls between them that's only broken when his seatmate fumbles around in his duffle bag, producing a set of headphones signaling the end of that brief conversation.

 

::

 

It takes about twenty minutes to arrive at the terminal. In which time Robert had broken the surprise to Vic, via text; then had to explain that, even after all  _that,_ he still wouldn't be home in time for Christmas.  

What a load of bullshit, for such an anticlimactic ending. 

She understands. Of course, she  _does._ It's Vic, she doesn't have it in her to hate anyone. Most of the time, he thinks that's the only reason she doesn't. If Robert was her, he'd hate him. 

She even goes out of her way to make  _him_ feel better. She says she'll cook them up something special for boxing day. She just wants to see him. It makes Robert's heart stutter, because even after  _everything,_ even after the dodged phone calls and disappointments over family events. All she wanted was to see him.  

He doesn't deserve her, and he doubts he ever will.

When he gets off the platform, a gust of wind runs through. He shivers, grabbing the ends of his jacket, and pulling them together, to conserve heat. 

He ends up following the bloke to the lift, perhaps he was right on the  _stalker_ front. In all fairness, Robert had no clue where he was going and this bloke, well, he seems to know his way around better than him. 

He'd only been out of the city with Chrissie, and that had just involved getting into a private car and being driven to the runway. He'd never had the money, or the time to off to do much solo travelling. Living even remotely close to the city wasn't cheap if you could call  _Queens_ the city. 

He loses the bloke, halfway to the hotel in a sea of tour groups being rounded up. Meaning it takes him twice a long as it probably should to get there, and by the time he does the bloke is practically checked in. The receptionist behind the desk passes him a room key. 

At the very least, the hotel looks decent  _enough._ It has a cosey run down look to it, and as long as it has free Wifi and a telly, Robert could hardly complain. 

"You made it, I hadn't realised I'd lost you till I arrived." The bloke smirks.

He blushes a blotchy red colour, scratching his eyebrow. "Sorry, directions aren't really my thing." 

He shrugs. "Don't worry about it."

He makes his way past Robert, presumably towards his room. Down the brightly lit corridor adjacent to the bar.  

"What's your name?" Robert calls out, cringing from the awkwardness of it. 

The bloke stops, raising a brow, as he turns slightly to face him, standing across the room. "Aaron, you?"

"Robert." 

 Aaron smiles then, small. But nevertheless, it has Robert's legs turn to jelly. It's been a long time since he's had school girl butterflies in his stomach. He doesn't say anything else, gives Robert a nod, and carries on in the direction he was headed. 

 _Aaron,_ huh. 

 

::

 

It's a little past ten at night and Robert's laid out flat on the bed. Some telenovela playing in the background, a hand wrist deep in a packet of digestive's Robert had bought for the flight. 

It's depressing. Not to mention the room smells a tad of mould and Robert can't help but wonder where it's  _coming_ from. 

His mind flashes to Aaron. He can't help but wonder if he's having as shit of time as him. Maybe he's loving it, raided the mini bar and all. 

Maybe he just wants to be comforted by the fact that someone else was having a shit Christmas too. Misery  _loved_ company after all. 

He groans, pulling out another biscuit and stuffing it whole into his mouth. Could he be any more sad, right now? 

 

::

 

It's crazy, he knows it is but Robert's had two mini hotel room bottles of wine and  _fuck it._ Maybe crazy was exactly what he needed after the day from absolute hell he'd had, and maybe, just maybe Aaron needed some crazy too. 

He catches the receptionist watching Game of Thrones. She's more than happy to give away Aaron's room number. If only because she wants to finish watching her show in peace. 

It makes Robert's life a whole lot easier. 

It is only when he arrives at room  _112,_ that he starts bricking it. What sort of weirdo knocks on a strangers hotel room at gone past ten at night because he wants a Christmas miracle? Robert doesn't even know, but he imagines it's the type that gets the cops called on them.

He knocks anyway. 

Aaron appears after a few seconds, blinking up at Robert confused. 

"Do you want to go look for our Christmas miracles?" Robert asks, with pleading eyes. 

"What?" Aaron blurts out. One of his arms hug around his centre, pale skin a stark contrast against his black tee.

"Look I know I sound bonkers," Robert says. Aaron makes a face, that confirms just  _that._ "But I was sitting alone in that room," Robert continues, waving his hands around.

"One that could make even the happiest man want to top himself, and I realised it's Christmas  _Eve._ I don't want to spend it in a room the size of a closet, alone. So I'm heading out into the city, it's mad I know. But I'm looking for my Christmas miracle and I thought...maybe you'd want to come with me." He waits a beat before adding, "What do you say?"

"Give me a minute to change."

 

::

 

Robert waits for Aaron in the hotel lobby, foot tapping against the linoleum flooring; wondering if Aaron had used "getting changed" as an excuse to ditch the "weirdo." 

Aaron comes through, he feels strangely proud, even though Aaron is a virtual stranger, who for all Robert knows Aaron could push him into a dark alley and  _murder_ him. But for one reason, or another, his gut, tells Robert he can trust him.

"So," Aaron says, coming to stand in front of Robert. He stuffs his hands into his coat pocket. "How are we getting into the city?"

Robert has twenty dollars in his wallet. "How much cash do you have on you?" He asks. 

"Thirty, I think?" Aaron puzzles.

"Perfect," Robert beams, slapping his thighs as he stands. Without intention they end up face to face, so close he can feel Aaron's breath against his face.

He clears his throat, taking a few steps back until the back of his knees softly come into contact with the lounge chair he has been sitting on. "We have enough for a taxi to Manhattan." 

"But what are we going to do once we get there?" Aaron's eyes flicker; It's doubt, Robert knows that look too well to mistake it for anything else. 

"Are you hungry?" 

Aaron nods. "Starving," he replies. 

Robert smiles, walking towards the exit, coaxing his head for Aaron to follow him. "I know a dead cheap pizza joint, tucked away on a side street."

"You had me at pizza."

Aaron  _laughs._ It's deep and throaty. Robert's sure he'll never be able to forget it.  

 

::

 

Aaron moans, taking another mouthful out of his slice. "God, I thought you were making shit up, but this is amazing," he declares.  

They're sat at a corner booth, near the window. Hank, the owner, had stuck a heater near the tables. Perks of spending an embarrassingly amount of lunch breaks there. 

"So, you work in the area?" Aaron asks. He picks up his napkin from the table, wiping sauce off his face.

"Two blocks up," he answers. He plays with his glass, swirling the plastic up around and watching the ice cubes bobble. "I'm a bookkeeper for a small tech starter up."

"Sounds interesting."

Robert laughs. "No, no it doesn't.  _Don't_ lie," he teases. 

Aaron huffs, feigning annoyance, "Oi! I was trying to be nice, mate."

"It's okay. To be honest, it's dead boring. Hardly what I saw myself doing at twenty-eight but it pays the bills." He'd been twenty-two when he'd made it to New York, tagging along, on a mates venture and never leaving. He saw himself working a few mundane jobs before starting his own business. 

But that never happened. He'd ended up scoring a comfortable job, and never left. He enjoyed having money in his pocket, not having to worry about the heating in his flat or where his next meal was going to come from.

He'd done that for years after he'd left home back in England. He wasn't keen to go through that again so he settled. For the boring, for the safe. 

"What about you?" Robert asks, feeling a bit exposed with having the topic of conversation being purely on him. 

"I'm a mechanic, I work for my uncle back home, at his garage."

"It must be nice working for family," he muses, thinks about the  _farm._ He thinks about Andy, still working hard. His heart stutters, he wonders if they still have horses. If Andy still rides out to the outer fields on weekends after tea. He wonders if he still watches the sunset, bright and so fiercely orange. 

"It's really not, trust me. It just means your family's always in your business, even at work." 

There's a beat of silence, but it's  _comfortable._ Something Robert never thought he'd find himself saying, about the sound of someone eating across from him. 

 

::

 

They leave Hank's and head towards Central Park, because Aaron's  _never_ been, and Robert can't let that fly. The first thing Robert had done when he'd arrived in the city, broke and lost, was wander around the park until the early hours of the morning. 

Trying to sort out the mess that was his head.

They've been walking for a while, side by side, shoulders just grazing each other, when Robert bluntly asks. "What did she do?"

Because he's  _curious._ Aaron looks like a decent bloke. Decent was hard to find these days, Robert doesn't understand how anyone could carelessly throw that away. Robert's never had decent, never been decent. He imagines it must feel  _nice._

"Him," Aaron corrects. "It's a  _him._ "

"Sorry," he mumbles, tripping over the word. 

"It's okay, you didn't know," Aaron shrugs. "It's my fault really, I should have known it wouldn't work. Ed's a rugby player, he got signed six months ago to an American team and well it all went pretty sideways from there."

"Did he cheat?"

"No. He just fell out of love with me, I guess. We haven't seen each other since he left, I guess the signs were all there, I should have taken the hint. Calls got shorter, and then just  _stopped._ It was over, but I.." Aaron trails off, eyes wandering to the sky; it's starless;  _godless._

"Didn't want it to end?" Robert supplies. 

"Yeah," he says breathlessly. "I'm such a saddo."

Robert shakes his head, stopping in his tracks. "You're  _not,_ there's nothing wrong with fighting for someone you care about, for someone you  _love._ There's nothing sad about that."

Aaron sniffles, he's  _crying._ Tears cascading down his cheeks and Robert just wants to lean forward and wipe them away, throw an arm around him and offer to fuck this  _Ed_ up for breaking the lad's heart. 

He doesn't. He stands there helpless. 

"I wish I had," Robert comforts. "I wish I had fought for Vic-my sister. I wish I hadn't let my dad run me out of town for a stupid  _mistake._ " He murmurs the last part of the sentence, his chest aching. "You're not a saddo, your  _brave,_ braver than me and all other losers who ran. You fought Aaron-fuck, you have no idea how much, I wish  I had."

There's nothing but the moonlight, cascading across Aaron's face.

"What are you running from?" Aaron whispers.

"Everything."

 

::

 

They end up at an all night bar, when the wind picks up and their both yearning for the warmth. Aaron snags them a table, cocooned near the fireplace. Robert heads to the bar, ordering two pints. 

He sits them down on the table, shuffling onto the bar stool. "Fair warning, it's cold," he grimaces. 

Aaron wrinkles his nose in disgust. "That's just wrong," he says. 

Robert laughs, taking a swing of his drink. He wasn't much of a bar sort of person; it wasn't a club, so there wasn't dancing, but it wasn't exactly a  _pub_ either. So there was no food. It's this weird in-between he wasn't fond of.

But sitting there with Aaron he doesn't find himself minding all that much.

"Go on then," he speaks. "why do you need a Christmas miracle?" 

"I don't-"

"Come  _on_  I told you my sob story," Aaron coaxes. 

Robert presses his lips together, looking down at his pint. "I was nineteen when my dad chucked me out, lived on the streets for a while, before a mate took me in. He's the reason I ended up in the city. It was meant to be us against the world..."

"What happened to him?"

Robert sniffles. "Overdosed, three months later. I spent a lot of time in that damn park, wondering what the hell I was going  _here._ I had no money, no one to call, I felt hopeless. But I had to do it for us, you know? I had to be strong for that  _kid,_ who'd been beaten down his whole life. Who never stood a  _chance._ "

He blinks back tears furiously. He's never  _talked_ about Connor before. He'd thought about getting professional help, but for some reason or other, he could never bring himself to ask for  _help._ His pride wouldn't allow it.  

"Why didn't you go home?" Aaron asks. He looks  _sad,_ yeah, he feels sad too. 

His chin quivers. He wills himself not to  _cry,_ not to show how weak he actually is. " _Drive till your well away and never come back,_ that's the last thing my dad ever said to me, the last thing he'll ever say to me. He picked Andy, and I'm just going to have to make peace with that."

Aaron places a hand over Roberts. "You're wrong, you know. You are strong."

Robert lets out a shaky breath, licking his lips. There's something in Aaron's eyes, a flicker-but it's not an emotion Robert can pinpoint, it's something new altogether. There's a warm, budding feel in the pit of his stomach. The butterflies are back.  

"You're wrong," Robert mumbles. 

"I don't think I am though."

 

::

 

"What are we doing here?" Aaron asks, sniffling a yawn. 

It's late or  _early_ depending on whether waking up or just getting off to bed but Robert isn't ready to return back to the hotel yet. There's just one more thing he needs to do first. 

He drags Aaron onto the L train, down to Brooklyn, and finally to a dialect block off flats that's seen better days. It's been boarded up for years now, Robert thinks he'd read that in the paper, they'd foreclosed the building due to health and safety.

He's wasn't surprised.  

"This," he motions with his hands towards the building, "was the first flat I ever paid rent on in the city. It had rats, and mould-but it was  _mine,_ it was the first time in years I felt proud of myself, for accomplishing something. Even if it was something as small as  _paying_ rent."

He turns to Aaron. "You asked me why I needed a Christmas miracle. For  _months,_ I've felt like I didn't belong, I thought if I forced myself to go home, to make things right that  _maybe,_ I'd find where I belonged, but the truth is-I don't belong there either."

He's looking Aaron in the eyes now, silence enveloping them; just Robert's heavy breath, wafting off into the night. Those blue orbs, they're like the ocean and Robert thinks he might just drown in an ocean of blue. 

"Maybe it's not a place you belong with," Aaron whispers, taking a step forward.

 _Maybe_ it's not-  

Robert takes a chance then, does something even crazier than dragging a stranger into New York on Christmas Eve. He kisses him, and everything just  _stills._  For a moment the world goes quiet, and they're the only two people in it, and they  _fit._

Like two puzzle pieces, mismatched and shoved into wrong relationships, waiting for the right moment. For this moment. To finally find each other. 

"Well, that was  _something_."

Robert grins, ear to ear. "Yeah, it was."

 

::

  

It's light out by the time they get back to the hotel. They spend the taxi ride back huddled together in silence.

Robert feels like he's a teenager, running around in the middle of the night, passing childish glances over at Aaron. Like some lovesick teenager boy who can't control himself.  

He hasn't felt like this in  _years,_ since Katie - only this feels better. Right in a way they  _never_  were.

They go their separate ways, each heading back to their own rooms. 

Once inside he turns the heater on, sitting on the bed and letting out a sigh; it's been, -well it's been a  _night_. Never in his wildest dreams did he think his flight getting cancelled would lead him here.   

He touches his lips, remembers the feeling of Aaron's on  _his._ It's not like he hadn't been kissed by blokes  _before._ It's just different to kissing a woman. Not better, not worse, just different. 

Aaron's rough, all teeth and beard. That sends Robert into a frenzy; makes him want more. 

Robert's known he likes  _both_ for a long time. Since he was a fifteen-year-old kid who wore overalls. 

He's lost in thought when his phone begins to buzz. He'd plugged it to the charger for an hour before he had to get going. He's knackered, in hindsight perhaps spending the night awake wasn't the best of ideas. 

Robert had never been able to sleep on planes; he was just going to have to suffer until he made it home; it was going to be a  _long_ day. 

He grabs his phone, smiling at the small flashing on the screen.  _Vic._

"Hey Vic," he answers, laying down flat on his back.

 _"Merry Christmas!"_ she cheers, letting out a giggle. It must be tea time over there, just the thought of homemade mince pies makes Robert's mouth water. 

"Merry Christmas," Robert laughs. "Having a good time I see?"

_"Yeah! Doug brought a bottle of prosecco to lunch. Don't tell Diane, but I think he's trying to woo her."_

Robert hums. "Mums the word, sure." 

She sighs, it's the sort of sound that Robert imagines is accompanied by someone starting off into the distance, remembering a better time.  _"I can't wait to see you tomorrow Rob, I've made a lemon cake, your favourite."_

"Sounds great, Vic."

 

::

 

"You're such a muppet," Aaron teases. They're standing in line at the check-in desk, right behind a family of four with a screaming infant that's doing Robert's head in.

"Laugh all you want, but when you get sat next to the window with no room to even  _breathe,_ get back to me."

Robert's that sort of person. He books his seat in advance, it's only an extra  _tenner,_ it's worth getting the aisle seat and being able to stretch his legs whenever he feels the urge, without disbursing the person next to him.

Aaron rolls his eyes. "It's a waste of money, mate."

"Whatever," Robert mutters, taking a step forward when the queue moves. "I'll come check on you, see how you feel then."

Aaron smiles sadly. "I wish we were sitting together," he says.  _Yeah,_ Robert wishes that too, but with how packed out the flight is, he doubts even a Christmas miracle could make that happen.

"You're not sick of me then?" Robert jokes, shuffling his feet. 

Aaron grabs his hand,  _warmth_ to his cold. 

"Next," the woman behind the desk calls. She's got a hand on the hat of her uniform, stopping it from falling off. 

"That's me," Aaron winks, giving Robert a cheeky grin.

 

::

 

The nerves start to set, half an hour before their decent. It's nervewracking, going  _home._ He hadn't even gone home for his father's funeral, it had been too painful, too raw. He didn't think he could stand there and bury the father he was never good enough for, without falling apart. 

He sits on the toilet, lid closed, face in his hands. His heart thuds in his ears, blood rushing to his head. He doesn't know if he can do it if he's strong enough to walk through the threshold of that  _house_ and look at how everything's changed around him. 

Stand in the house he'd grown up in; and count all the people that are missing. Things change he  _knows,_ life goes on. It doesn't mean it doesn't  _hurt._ He doesn't think it'll ever stop.

 

::

 

They say goodbye at the luggage claim, Aaron's mum's waiting for him at arrival's, and that's a can of worms Aaron would rather not open, after a nine-hour flight.

Robert  _gets_ it, it's not something easy to explain. She'd probably think Robert's some weirdo who took advantage of her son's heartbroken situation to pounce. 

"We look like a right pair of saddo's" Robert comments, holding the handle of his suitcase. 

Aaron rolls his eyes. "Shut up and give me a hug, yeah?" 

There's a flicker in Aaron's eyes; he's starting to get used to them. Aaron was the sort of person that wore a mask, but once it's broken, it's easy to see that he actually wears his emotions on his sleeve. 

"Come here," he says, holding his arms wide open. Aaron shuffles forward until his arms are around Robert's neck, holding him close - and yeah, Robert can't help but feel like this is what  _belonging_ feels like. 

He hugs Aaron back, just as furiously, burying his face in the crook of Aaron's shoulder.

It's only then he realises he's  _crying,_ dampening Aaron's maroon jumper with big fat tears. He doesn't even know why, it's not  _forever._ Perhaps it's just been an emotional few days and the weight of it all had suddenly slammed into him like a ton of bricks. 

He sniffles, which has Aaron pulling away, eyes wide and confused.  _Yeah,_ Robert doesn't understand it either. 

"What's wrong?" Aaron asks, worried.

Robert shakes his head. "I'm fine," he assures, using the sleeve of his jumper to wipe his nose. "It's just been  _a lot,_ you know?"

Aaron nods. "I do."

They stand there for a while, Robert mostly trying to get his breathing in check. 

Aaron leaves then, placing a kiss on Robert's cheek before he goes, wheels his suitcase through the arrival doors, and he's  _gone._ Leaving Robert standing there, unsure of everything once again. 

 

::

 

Robert feels nostalgic, sitting down at the kitchen table; he can almost hear his mum's voice screaming at him to get up before he missed the bus. He's currently nursing a cup of tea, watching Vic patter around the kitchen. 

"Are you sure I can't whip you up something for breakfast?" she asks, opening the cupboard in search of a pot. "It'll be ages, until tea." 

Robert shakes his head, "I'm alright with a brew, thanks."

"Ah!" she shouts. "Found it! So much for Adam saying we'd lost it."

"So when do I get to meet this mystery boyfriend then?" he asks. Robert can't believe it. His sister's old enough to  _date._ When did that happen? Probably while he was off, running from his past.

"Be nice," she warns, turning to face him, setting the pot down on the table. "I mean it, I really like him! "

Robert raises his hands in defeat. "Okay, okay I'll play nice.  _Maybe._ "

She groans, making a face of displeasure. "You and Andy are as bad as each other."

 

::

 

They have tea, with lemon cake and  _all._ Robert had thought, it would be awkward, but it's  _actually_ nice. Nicer than he ever thought tea with his family could ever be, and  _ever_ was.

Him and Andy had even agreed to bury the hatchet. Shockingly enough. He never thought he'd find himself having lemon cake with his brother without wanting to tear the older lads head off. 

Adam joins them. Andy seems to think he's alright, and for  _once,_ Robert decides for Vic's sake to take his lead and not scare this bloke into running for the heels. Even though Robert doesn't think  _anyone_ will ever be good enough for his sister. 

He lives half an hour away, in a  little village called Emmerdale that Robert's never heard of. A  _farm_ boy, maybe there was something to the saying,  _girls fall for their fathers._ Well, perhaps not completely.  

"You alright?" Andy asks, sitting beside him on the settee. It's still got the tatty blue blankets thrown over it that their mum had bought a flea flee market, all those years ago. 

"Yeah, I am actually," he says with conviction, and he means it. He feels  _okay._ For the first time in  _forever._

"I'm glad you made it bro, Vic's just made up, and so am I."

"Me too."

 

::

 

Robert can't sleep, he's just too  _wired_ up. The piece of paper Aaron had given him sits in his pocket.  _Heavy._ It's the younger lad's address, Aaron had slipped it into his pocket before he'd walked away. Leaving the ball in Robert's court. 

Unable to stop himself, he wriggles down the couch, until he can stuff his hand into his pocket and pull out the crumpled paper. 

_The Woolpack, Emmerdale. Come find me ;)_

Emmerdale? Huh, twice in one  _day._ That's a weird coincidence. 

Should he? Drive in the middle of the night to - he doesn't  _know._ But he wants to find out, wants to know what Aaron wants. What the younger lad wants  _them_ to be. Just two strangers passing in the night, or two people who could -just  _maybe-_ end up together. 

Screw it. He's not going to run anymore. 

 

::

 

"Come outside," Robert orders, shivering slightly. He's standing outside the woolpack, mobile to his ear, snow falling into his hair. Aaron's definitely going to think he's mental this time.

 _"What?"_  Aaron asks, clearly have just been woken up.  _"What are you on about?"_

"Hang up, and come outside,  _please,_ " Robert begs, crossing his arms across his chest to preserve heat. 

Aaron grumbles but agrees. Telling him to hold  _on,_ before he hangs up. So Robert does, he waits patiently, until the back door to the Woolpack opens, and Aaron's peaking his head out. When his eyes land on Robert, his mouth hangs up.

"What are you doing here?" Aaron exclaims, walking out the door to meet Robert on the sidewalk. 

"I needed to see you, I needed to know what we had, if it was  _real._ "

Aaron's eyes soften, leaning forward and creasing Robert's cheek. "Oh Rob, you really are a muppet, aren't you."

It's Aarons turn this time, to lean forward and  _kiss_ him. It's as eclectic as the first, maybe even more so - standing outside a pub at the dead of night, snow falling all around them, making the town look like a winter wonderland.

"Of course it was. We're real, this is  _real._ "

He looks towards the sky for a moment, takes in the canvas full of  _stars._ So different from the murky, wishless sky of New York- and  _yeah,_ they are real. This is real. They are standing here, under a wishful sky.  _Together-_

"I think I found my Christmas Miracle."

"Yeah, I think I did too."

 

::

 

**_A Christmas later:_ **

 

"You managed to escape then," Aaron beams from the behind the bar. He places a pint down in front of one of the regulars;  _Pete,_ if Robert remembers rightly.

He nods, shaking the snow from his coat. "Barely, Vic wanted pictures," he groans. It's a good thing he loves her, with the amount of photo's they'd taken, even the sanest of folk would have turned around and murdered her. 

Aaron laughs. "I hope she's still alive."

"Just about," he mutters. He sits down on one of the bar stools, wiggling until he found a position that was comfortable. "Why are you behind the bar tonight?"

"Charity and mum are in the back, they've had one too many" Aaron replies. "You'd think I was the parent honestly."

It's so  _domestic,_ it makes his heart almost  _hurt._ He'd taken a chance, moving his life back to the U.K, after that  _night._ Adjusting had been a challenge, but Aaron and Vic had helped, and oddly enough  _Adam._ Who in a weird turn of events ended up being Aaron's best mate. 

"Is the demon sprog around then?" Robert asks, there's a certain affection in his voice.  _Liv_ wasn't exactly his biggest fan, but he likes to think over time he's  _grown_ on her. 

"Oi, that's my sister you're talking about."

"Hey, it's not my fault. She peremently looks like she wants to push me into ongoing traffic."

"You are pretty pushable," Aaron smiles. "You want a pint? I've only got warm though."

"Peferct."

 

::

 

'Fast and the furious' is playing on the telly.  _Again._ Because for some odd reason Aaron owns the box set. Robert's watched them online with Aaron at least  _twenty times._ It's the younger lad's go to film and Robert can't find it in himself to ever say no to Aaron.

The pair are sitting on the settee. Liv sitting by their feet on the floor, she'd gotten home about an hour ago from Gabby's. He doesn't even want to think about the trouble those two had been causing, not after the water balloon incident. 

Robert's not particularly interested in the movie, he's more focused on Aaron's intent face as he watches. Everything else is a hum in the background, white noise.

Quitely, Robert shuffles over, places his head on Aaron's shoulder. He doesn't move, too caught up in the film, but his hand falls instinctively onto Robert's knee. It's soft, and when Liv does eventually turn around she'll tease Robert to fifth for it.

He doesn't care; he hopes he gets to spend every Christmas  _just like this._

 

 

**END**

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me @victoriasugden on Tumblr.


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